Half Baked Plans
by anonwhat
Summary: Draco's had a bad day, and Harry is acting suspiciously.


Title: Half-Baked Plans

Rating: PG

Beta: oflights

A/N: Birthday fic for the lovely simeysgirl. Sorry this doesn't fit into the 'Constant Strangeness' verse, but i hope you like it. Also, oh my god, i didn't use the F word.

* * *

Draco was so happy when he finally got home. He had had an awful day and just wanted to collapse on the sofa with a glass of wine, and perhaps have a snuggle. Snuggles always made him feel better after a crap day at work, though he would never admit that to Harry.

He took off his jacket and hung it up. On his way down the hall he picked up the pile of take-away menus on the table. He really couldn't be bothered to cook tonight. Harry wouldn't mind; he had been ill that morning and had taken the day off to rest.

It was as he shuffled through the take-away menus, trying to decide between Mexican and Chinese, that he heard the loud noises begin. He looked up, frowning, and thought they sounded like they were coming from the kitchen.

"Harry?" he called, wondering if Harry was well enough to be up and about, or if he was just making himself a cup of tea.

Just as suddenly as they had started, the noises stopped. There was a pause, a slight scrabbling noise and then a door banged shut.

Rounding the end of the hallway, Draco saw Harry standing against the closed door of the kitchen. He was attempting to look casual by leaning against the door frame, but his stiff posture and crossed arms gave away his unease.

"You're home early," started Harry.

"Shit day, needed wine," said Draco. He took in Harry's rolled up sleeves, flushed face and messy hair; it looked like he'd spilt talc in it. "What are you doing in there? Should you be out of bed?"

"Nothing, nothing. I'm fine. A few cups of tea and I was right as rain. Not a problem."

When Harry started rambling Draco knew he was up to something. He narrowed his eyes at Harry suspiciously, but said nothing.

"Why don't you go and sit down? I'll bring you a glass of wine, yeah?" Harry moved one hand to kitchen door handle, but did not turn it.

"I was going to order take-away," said Draco, holding up the menus in his hand. "Mexican okay with you?"

For some reason Harry smiled as he shook his head.

"No need to order take-away. You go sit down at the table and I'll bring you some wine."

Draco narrowed his eyes again, giving Harry a weak glare as he turned and headed into the dining room. He should have known. Despite the noises he had been making in the bathroom that morning, Harry hadn't been sick at all. That half-Slytherin son of a bitch.

He'd barely made himself comfortable when Harry bustled in. A glass of wine was placed in front of Draco and a brief, but firm kiss planted on his lips before Harry rushed out again.

As he waited Draco sipped his wine and thought. What could Harry be doing in there? He didn't cook; Draco was the chef while Harry always did the washing up. Draco hoped like hell he wasn't attempting any magic free DIY. The last time Harry had tried to assemble a flat-pack without the aid of his wand their CD rack had ended up as a coffee table. The memory of Harry's CD collection made Draco wonder if he was alphabetising the contents of the kitchen cupboards.

Before Draco could decide if alphabetised food would be beneficial or not, Harry returned. He was holding two plates, one of which he placed in front of Draco, he put the other down next to it and then took a seat.

"Happy birthday, Draco!" he cried triumphantly.

Draco looked down at his plate. There in front of him were the enchiladas he had been planning on ordering from the Mexican take-away. He studied the food closely and realised they really were just that; the enchiladas from the Mexican take-away.

"You can't fool me into thinking you cooked by putting take-away food onto a plate, you know." He grinned at Harry, amused.

"I didn't expect to fool you."

"Then why all the secrecy in the kitchen? And hang on-" Draco was quickly realising all the clues didn't fit. "I didn't hear the take-away arrive, so you must have already had it. How did you know I would want Mexican? And-" he was really picking up steam now. "How did this warrant skiving off of work for the whole day?"

Harry simply smiled at him innocently.

"Eat your food before it gets cold," replied Harry before starting on his own.

Giving up on getting anything out of Harry for the time being, Draco happily tucked into his birthday take-away. It was piping hot and as fresh as if it had just come out of the oven. Regardless of his lack of cooking skills, Harry knew a mean Preservative Charm.

Once they had finished Harry gathered up the plates. Draco began to rise from his chair to help, but Harry placed a hand on his shoulder and forced him to sit back down.

"Don't move yet, it's time for dessert!"

"Dessert?" asked Draco.

Harry nodded excitedly and left the room, leaving Draco frowning in his seat. They never ordered dessert from the take-away and Draco was pretty sure there was no ice cream or anything in the kitchen. His Slytherin sense was tingling again. When Harry didn't return quickly, Draco considered sneaking into the kitchen to see what he was up to, but decided to let his scheme play out and discover where it would lead.

After several minutes the light in the dining room suddenly dimmed. The door opened to reveal Harry carrying a cake with several candles in it, all lit. As he walked into the room, he began to sing.

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Dracoooooo! Happy birthday to you!"

He placed the cake down in front of Draco, smiling at him with that extra big, super happy smile that Draco loved to see.

"Don't forget to make a wish!"

Closing his eyes, Draco thought about how lucky he was. He was living a simple life with the man he loved, he enjoyed his work and his hobbies, he loved his friends and his family, and Harry could even still surprise him every now and then.

As he blew out the candles, Draco wished that nothing would change.

When he opened his eyes again it was to see Harry standing over him with a large knife.

"What did you wish for?" he asked eagerly.

"If I tell you, it won't come true." He eyed the weapon in Harry's hand. "And threatening me with a knife won't get it out of me, either."

"Oh, shut up," teased Harry. "This is for the cake."

Harry waved his wand lazily and the light in the room returned to normal. He plucked the candles out of the cake and began to cut into in. Only then did Draco notice the icing on the cake.

"Green?" He smirked at Harry. "You got me a cake with _green _icing?"

"You _are _a Slytherin, aren't you?" Harry teased. "And no, I didn't get you a cake with green icing, I _baked _you a cake with green icing. So there."

"You-" Draco's mouth fell open in shock. "You baked this yourself?"

A small smile appeared on Harry's face as he nodded, handing Draco the first slice of cake.

"And you covered it with green icing?" he asked.

Blushing slightly now, Harry took his own slice of cake and nodded again.

"I bloody love you," stated Draco.

Harry was now a deep shade of red and hurriedly shoving cake into his mouth. He managed to grin at Draco.

"I love you too," he said, spitting crumbs across the table.

Draco just chuckled and took a bite of cake.

When they started on their second slice of cake, Draco decided to pump Harry for more information.

"So is the cake baking the reason you needed the whole day off?" he asked.

"Yeah," admitted Harry. "I would've gone for two, but I didn't want you figuring anything out too quickly."

"Why on Earth would you need two days to bake a cake!"

"Because I can't bloody cook! You know that." Harry began self-consciously pushing the crumbs around on his plate.

"But this cake is delicious," said Draco.

"Yeah, but the first five weren't," mumbled Harry.

"You baked _six _cakes?" The small bit of cake Draco was holding fell from his hand and on to the table top with a small thwack.

"Seven, actually." Harry cringed. "The first one couldn't have been called 'cake'."

Draco laughed outright at that until he felt his eyes starting to water. Harry smiled apologetically and shrugged.

"Are you going to tell me about the take-away?"

"Ah, that." Harry grinned. "I thought it was rather clever."

"You thought what was rather clever?" Draco was suddenly nervous, if Harry thought he'd done something clever, chances were he'd done something ridiculous.

"Well, I didn't know what take-away you would want. Actually," Harry giggled, "I thought it would be more difficult to get that bit of information out of you, but you gave it up straight away. So thanks for that."

"But- you did already have the Mexican take-away, so how-?" Draco stared to rub his temples, thinking was beginning to hurt.

"Like I said, it's rather clever."

Draco looked up at Harry expectantly, but sceptically.

"I, er, pre-ordered from every take-away."

It took Draco a few seconds to process that information, and a few more to be able to formulate a response.

"Are you saying," he began slowly, "that we have a kitchen full of take-away?"

Harry beamed at him and nodded proudly.

"You won't have to cook for the rest of the week!"

Draco didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He settled for an exasperated chuckle as let his head fall on to the table top.

Deciding to just go with it, Draco raised his head and smiled at Harry.

"So, Chinese tomorrow?"

Harry, who had begun to look worried at Draco's head banging reaction, laughed with relief.

"Right," announced Draco, "you clean your crumbs up in here and I'll start on the washing up."

Before Harry could stop him, Draco had picked up the plates and marched into the kitchen.

As he stepped through the door, Draco almost dropped the plates in alarm. He gazed slowly around the kitchen, his eyes gradually growing wider and his mouth dropping open in shock as he took in the scene. The kitchen table was piled high with full take-away boxes and surrounded by the shimmer of Harry's Preservative Charm. The side board, floor and cupboards were covered in flour, sugar, broken eggs shells, runny cake mix and blobs of green icing. The oven was wide open and filthy with burnt cake. And the sink was overflowing with dirty bowls, spoons and cake tins.

Draco had a few seconds to observe the scene of the crime before Harry rushed up the hall behind him and slid to a stop beside Draco.

"I'll clean it up!" he cried.

Turning to glare at Harry, Draco noticed the flour still caught in his messy hair. Instead of getting angry and shouting at Harry, he smiled. Harry seemed to flinch, perhaps worried by Draco's non-explosive reaction. Draco leaned in and cupped Harry's cheek. Slowly he brought their lips together.

When they parted, they were both smiling.

"Thank you for the food and the wonderful cake," said Draco.

Harry's smile grew wider.

"But never touch my kitchen again."

- End -


End file.
